It’s really none of your business when we retire for the evening.

We always kept schedules for the kids before things got so stressful we began to tread water on a daily basis.

CapturePeople ask, “Why the sad face?” You had to ask?! I’m not enjoying my life all that much because others forget to ask themselves how they might feel in our position and act according to the laws of decency.

I’ve been on the receiving end of an endless stream of criticisms by people who reverse engineer radio signals from our home. All they need is your phone number and address and people with the technology can eavesdrop through remote access technology. You do not need to have a crumb of emotional intelligence or sensitivity to know how to operate radio equipment. The building manager in this sub-par rental accommodation who was once a carny and Elvis impersonator has no problem with it but he can’t fix a tap properly. 

Because they need you to be in a room with a radio or computer or cell phone, those behind this treatment have an interest in sustaining these restrictive quarters because if there were more space in our home there would be rooms without radio access. We’re crammed in tight with our technology for their convenience! I’ve had tech savvy people tell me this is quite true and in no way paranoid on my part given the interest shown to my work by Hollywood directors in the past on high profile message boards.

With the public leeching us in this manner, we don’t get the public support we need to approach lawyers for business deals and the Canadian voting public more or less has given those responsible free access to our intellectual property in exchange for letting the Canadian Government use us as unpaid laboratory specimens. There are frequent bouts without grocery money so they can study the effects of fasting on live human families; there have been a series of robberies and illegal detentions under false pretexts. We live in absolute terror!

I’m getting some flack about our bed time lately from those who mind our business instead of their own. Those who do not homeschool have taken it upon yourselves to compare your crack-of-dawn lifestyle with ours because you know my son Daemon (15) has been staying up past midnight then sleeping in past noon for the last few months.

I think the most remarkable thing we forgot to observe while we were making this our business and writing front page articles about the science behind adolescence and sleep, is the fact that last summer, my son was kidnapped, tortured, poisoned then returned home by this government. When they let him return he was in the early stages of throat cancer. That right there ought to silence even the most ardent disciplinarian, never mind the fact that last summer, he had no leisure time because he spent the entire season in a state of shock and terror.

Some said they thought it was like summer camp for him. Those are the same people who threaten to kill us because they make stock market gains from giving people cancer with unregulated, toxic consumer goods. Sad reality is people are bribing newspapers to censor complaints and differing opinions. People only pretend to care about those who get news coverage and according to reporters we don’t qualify because that would embarrass too many people involved in this scenario. If our fellow countrymen gave a damn they would support us in a tangible way that made a difference to our circumstances.

I am forced to work endless hours into the night on practically a daily basis for over a decade now in order to counter the venom originating online from those who fail to observe US antitrust law. I’m lucky if I get 4 or 5 hours a night. As my regular readers know, circumstances dictate that I share a room with my son and daughter so we can pay our rent due to the measly income we have.

This, as I have shown the public, is due to the fact that there is an agenda to deny my family services such as compensation for the work I do online, and the fact that my family is on display 24/7 for the purpose of public education. I pull in tens of thousands of hits a day. Others make satisfactory income from advertizing dollars through Google but someone is forcing programmers to tamper with my stats and people online pretend not to follow me when they hang on my every word and that of my whole family by means that I never approved. No consent was given and my publishing of address and phone number was simply a desperate measure to quell wicked, false rumors spread by the wife of Microsoft founder Bill Gates. At least if the public can hear for themselves that I am a gentle, clean, responsible mother, the danger of her defamation abates sufficiently that we do not fear for our lives!

One might think given the degree of stress we’re under  we might be compensated at least enough to have our own bedrooms but no that’s not the case. We live in cramped quarters; we are prevented from sleeping comfortably and anyone who’s ever slept on a bad mattress understands the agony we suffer which results in protracted insomnia or else a very low quality of rest each night. Combine this with my work online in the same room, also due to limited space in our residence, and you get a recipe for exhaustion.

Pardon me if it sounds haughty but my guess is the majority of North Americans live in vastly different circumstances because nobody gives a damn what they say in the privacy of their homes and there’s no corporate espionage transpiring. Therefore those who do not suffer the same indignities cannot judge our sleep habits legitimately and in doing so they only admit they have no respect for privacy laws but also lack the simplest judgment skills and compassion. In essence it’s a wonder my son can sleep at all given the direct impact of the abhorrent behavior of these same people who are making an issue of his bed time!

Then there’s the fact that prior to this government kidnapping my son on several occasions to try and silence my Internet posts, we had no problems with insomnia and we had respectable bed times. In the last foster home stay they never checked to see if his teeth were brushed and his lights went out. He suffered acute separation anxiety from having all contact with his family cut off for 7 months by his captors. That’s why when the woman who ran the house he lived in lent him a laptop, he stayed up all night in his street clothes on the top of his blankets playing video games. I cannot imagine how much stress my son would have to have flooding through his system to cause that sort of behavior.

When you are the cause of a problem you do not then get to stand judgment against those who suffer at your rough hand. If anything he deserves commendations for the strides he’s made in his trauma recovery since his return as many of the bad habits he picked up were far worse than late night computer use and I like to choose my battles. (Would it kill them to say, “Great job, Christina, hope you feel better Daemon”?!)

If I could earn revenue through my blog traffic that would be excellent but I made the mistake of telling Bill Gates I did not want blood money and it so happens those in charge of Silicon Valley like to do things a certain way and as a result for decades they’ve hired programmers who are complicit with a certain agenda on an exclusive basis. Because I do not surf porn or play sex games online and evidently because I feel it’s a sin for organized crime within our government to murder underprivileged children, I am excluded from a government gravy train.

This infamous Thomas The Engine that gobbles up billions in tax revenue like a steam roller, cannot find a happy medium between the mother and whore dichotomy because Melinda Gates is a homely, oversexed simpleton and she’s the model they use for their business strategies. She’s the standard by which we judge the responsible parent and there is sufficient evidence to suggest that if you disagree with her you risk your life through a variety of means including tampering with your grocery items, pharmaceuticals or street drugs as the case may be. (We have survived numerous food poisonings at the hands of unscrupulous foreign food workers who lack the language skills to understand my writing, whom she manipulates with lies of our ignorance and racism.)

The problem really is that the woman is dense and lazy. She has no hobbies outside of meddling in the affairs of others and getting laid if what I hear is true; she hires someone to do everything for her and is loose in her sexual politics. I am told I “lack maturity” if I fail to engage in schoolyard sex games with the political class because I believe in privacy and I’d rather crochet dog diapers than see Jean Chrétien naked. In elementary school that’s forgivable but results in demerits; on such a massive scale you get a deterioration in the fundamentals of civilization.

The way everyone ignores me and stares in awe at my verbalization of these utterly shameful disclosures only serves to reinforce the negative impression our political class is making on the very public they are paid to serve and protect. It’s this stogy, holier-than-thou pretense that allows them to fleece us but we’re onto you idiots. Clearly, Melinda Gates is an overly permissive role model for women and opts to expend energies which ought to be redirected elsewhere into pursuits of an indelicate nature. (I’m not the one the men secretly refer to as, “Linda Lovelace”.) The plagiarism is getting ridiculous; the empty threats tiresome and the fake “super square billionaire’s wife” exterior is flaking off like last week’s pedicure.

So when you tuck your own kids to bed this week, try to remember that under ordinary circumstances my family goes to bed at normal hours. We’re overtired; we’ve got aches and pains from these sleeping arrangements. Remember how badly we miss our mattresses and our own rooms with our own work space; remember we have health problems that make this all the more painful for us. We feel like we’re living in a prisoner camp and nothing short of the complete cessation of the campaign to blacklist us will resolve the matter or quell our suffering.

Suggestions we sell ourselves on the bawdy market are preposterous; we’re simply not cut out for that and we have a right to choose our own path in life provided the skill is there. I’ve proven myself a capable parent, teacher, graphic artist and influential writer. I’ve proven myself to be chaste, so it’s a far cry. I’m not saying women who have different lifestyles deserve to be unemployed but if you’re going to pressure someone at least it ought to be a plausible outcome. I’m sorry if Melinda Gates lied to people about my character but I should not be punished because she compromised you into exposing yourselves as philanderers. I am not the one who has set the moral standard for the last 20 years. As a woman who has been prevented her whole life by the powers that be from earning an income independent of an emotionally abusive ex-husband and family, I have every right to call out Melinda Gates and her fellow members of organized crime these so-called, “feminists”, on their bigoted, fraudulent employment policies.


Evidence of ransom monies being requested of Bill Gates in exchange for Daemon’s release:

This comment was cut from the Hamilton Spectator— where they refuse to cover the crimes my family was subjected to due to all these dirty dealings. It was first published under an October article about teacher’s rights.

Clearly, Prime Minister Harper would intervene by calling the RCMP if he were not in this up to his cotton balls. In fact, the RCMP terrorist investigation unit are the ones who informed me he was accepting bribes to hush this up. All I can say is he his kids had better look over their shoulders for the next few years… why should we be the ones having all the fun?!

Most recent visit with Daemon:

Picture 100One thing I can tell you is I know my son. When you’ve watched someone grow from an infant to a pre-teen, you get to know their little quirks and things about their bodies, their diets, all that stuff if you pay attention, and I pride myself on being an attentive Mom. I know my daughter gets diarrhea when she eats apricots. Fresh, dried, jam— makes no difference. It doesn’t need to make sense that’s just how God made her. I know my son gets skin rashes when he eats bread. Apricot, diarrhea, bread, skin rash. We’re all human— we’ve all had these things at some point in our lives. Not mentioning that does not make us more than human. Anyone who’s ever been elbow deep in baby diapers knows that.

When you’re a homeschool parent, you can multiply your knowledge of your child’s individual needs several times over because your knowledge of your kids is enhanced from all the one-on-one attention. I know my son, Daemon well, I know that when my son gets a skin rash, it’s from something he ate or else from something unholy he breathed in, or even from something he’s not eating that he needs to eat because the people feeding him could not be bothered to follow my instructions to make sure he’s healthy.

I don’t need an allergy test to confirm what I’ve seen with my own eyes dozens of times. All I need is faith in my own faculties and the agreement of those closest to me. When a mother has seen the reaction take place like clockwork many times over, we can no longer dispute the correlation. The kids are ordinarily bright enough to know not to eat stuff that makes them sick. End of story. The question is, “What do you do when a group of strangers takes your kid away and disregards all of your wishes as a parent to sustain the health and happiness of your kid— demanding you follow some preordained government protocol that ordinarily only applies on a much larger scale simply because you’ve been robbed of your privacy?”

Raising kids properly is a job in progress. They don’t leap from the womb morally and physically superb. We cultivate those things in our children day by day— it’s the big secret we all think we can steal from Christina. Dedication and attention to detail are not innate— they are the result of unflinching, never-ending commitment to excellence that never falters. Only love can fuel that sort of effort. Only family can love one another enough to get there. It makes no difference to me if my children and I are flawed if our love for one another is perfect. We can learn to love one another’s imperfections the same way we love our strength, if only because they are what makes us unique.

These people are hurting my son because not only do they not love him, they loathe him for being related to a woman who is not from their greater perception of family— the inner circle of left-wing “democratic communism” they built from the pitiful, shattered dreams of post WWII mother-loathing “feminism”. Not only do we hate mothers, we hate people who don’t hate them. Never-mind the fact that our own mothers gave us reason to hate them and theirs did not— it’s not a rational mindset. Passion and reason cannot co-exist in that sort of a democracy; there’s no room for knowledge there— we’re unwittingly guided by fervent prejudice and childhood trauma. And while I do feel compassion for these people, the horror I feel far outweighs any sense of sympathy for them.

How could they not see the pain they’ve caused us in the name of “freedom” and “democracy”?

Just so you understand why I’ve been dragged through this hell, I’m a homeschool parent. I chose to forego my career when my daughter was born and I teach my own kids because I felt that giftedness was not addressed well in the school system and I could not afford private tutors. Sure, I failed to plan my family; to establish my career before my firstborn— and yet I need to ask you all since when this was a crime worthy of the death sentence? I choose to see the miracle of birth not as a curse, but a blessing! Why, in such an affluent, modernized society, must we be penalized for the miracle of birth and family?

Daemon and I from our most recent visit at CAS head office.

Every so often, some nosy neighbor whose children are flunking out in school decides to take out her frustrations on my family and report us to the Children’s Aid Society for the heck of it. We’re a little bit too well-dressed, or a little bit too happy. We’re overly polite, we read a bit too much for their liking. It’s something homeschool parents have to put up with because legislators in this country are biased against private education. In the past, they call us up, they interview me, then close the file. It’s painfully obvious I’m doing a great job. The kids are happy, they are well educated and capable— most people are impressed if anything by this, especially given our modest circumstances.

Hamilton Ontario, the town where all this occurred, is the one where all the mental patients, misfits, brain-injured and undesirables of Ontario, Canada are shipped off to die.  over 75% of everything horrible I’ve ever experienced in my life from complete strangers has happened in this town. I ended up here because the rent is cheap, and unlike my home province of Quebec, Ontario is run by entrenched interests whose economic foundation is not in Canada. You cannot shake a stick in Ontario without hitting a Crown-affiliated secret fraternity. And no— you do not get into government in this town unless you so lean far left your brains are literally pouring out of your left ear.

And thus, the Hamilton courts justified stealing my son away from his loving family by saying my son had “academic deficiencies” because I home school him. It made no difference what was true, and what was false. The psychological evaluation CAS insisted on our son performing that Justice Pazaratz, our resident “Gypsy” Judge, referenced in his ruling, was handed to him seconds before the commencement of the hearing but he made no issue of that. (Hamilton CAS affiliates could show up in court with children’s entrails dripping from their cuffs and he would never bat an eye.) He did not have time to note that my son’s math tests for the evaluating psychologist (without a PHD) were in the B range on a bad day, and that it was heavily suggested in the report our son, Daemon had significant apprehension trauma— caused by CAS’s failure to observe their own mandate, his consent rules, the human rights code or any of that nuisance we call law— that adversely affected the results of his personality test.

We don’t ever factor in the mistakes we make— all 627,000 members of CUPE, Canada’s largest professional organized labor force, can do no wrong, and they decided together, presumably through their combined, anonymous access to Internet message boards, that my family was to endure this complete disregard for the laws of this province; for our human rights— to satisfy some popular disdain for the conservative family politics I promote in what ought to be the privacy of our own home if the Canadian Radio and Telecommunications Commission were not mixed up in all manner of God only knows what!

As a result, my son was forced to attend public high school by Hamilton CAS this September. He has an A average so far in high school and his math teacher said he was advanced when he was tested; that I must have done very good job teaching him. Instead of admitting they made an error and returning him, they now insist my daughter and I move out into a woman’s shelter so Daemon he can live with his father.

As to the rash on my son’s nose that developed while these “public servants” exemplify their own unique brand of “childcare” onto our lives, it’s a prime example of how “democratic communism” works. “Why should they have the privilege of living in a lower economic bracket while we force them to pay taxes for our public schools?” After 5 years of living like a refugee in my birth country, my answer leans increasingly towards, “STFU or I’ll nuke CUPE headquarters”.

I don’t care if the social worker says the doctor she brought him to didn’t notice the rash— she did not point it out to the doctor and he is afraid to complain because whenever any of us complain about anything wrong the Children’s Aid Society does to hurt us, there are the mental health allegations. (According to them, all people with conservative family values are insane.) Nor did she ask for a second opinion from another doctor when I complained the rash went ignored by them and therefore was never treated. Normally, when there’s a problem, and it’s visible, and one doctor ignores it, you go to another for a second opinion, then a third if that’s still not getting you results. I’m sorry but that’s common knowledge. For a social worker to simply shrug her shoulders and dismiss the matter while my son is still sick— is what we call NEGLIGENCE. Here is the email his “family worker” (not registered with the college of Social Workers of Ontario) sent me when I tried to get help with the problem:

Hello Christina and Aaron,

I am replying to your recent email to let you know that Daemon was seen this week by a physician and there were no visible rashes nor did Daemon raise any health concerns.
You mentioned that he had a chest infection from the toxins he was exposed to at White Oaks. I am unaware of any chest infections and I do not believe that he was treated for such. 
The Society is unable to reimburse you for your purchases. The foster home was provided with the vitamins as well as a copy of the instructions you provided. 
The Society would like to move forward with the plan for Daemon to reside with  Aaron once you have moved out of the apartment. 
Just a side note, Meeta has not been receiving your emails as you have the spelling incorrect.
She can be reached at  There is no “E” in Bains. 

Look at this picture (above) I snapped with my cel phone during our most recent visit and you can see it’s not my imagination that something is terribly wrong with Daemon’s health. You don’t get rashes like this out of the blue unless something else inside is sick. I’ve seen him with a rash like this before but only a small one in the crease of his nose. Never in his life has it been allowed to get this bad! My son was initially given a kidney ultrasound when CAS broke the law and forced him into custody last May. That doctor diagnosed him with inflamed kidneys because they were literally protruding from his sides when he was examined. This is because days prior to the arrest, the whole family was food poisoned.

What I heard through the grapevine was that the meat supplier for the health food store we shop at was bribed to poison their entire beef supply with full knowledge we ate it on a regular basis. That would be due to the fact that people in this country have little respect for anti-competition laws! It should be noted that I treated the problem and when he was re-examined at a later date, my son’s kidneys were no longer swollen. The problem was never treated by a medical doctor. I imagine these people would have allowed it to progress to full blown kidney disease if I had not intervened. Someone needs to explain how that’s competent care!

I do not expect the social workers to have my knowledge about childhood illness prevention but I’m treated like an hysteric for preventing illness and meanwhile people who let it happen right under their noses are never held responsible! And it’s nobody’s fault if they are not told that a healthy diet can limit your chances of illness but I think that’s common knowledge. Rarely do I see families neglect to bring their kids to the doctor when their kids are sick or have rashes and that sort of thing so why is it OK when government employees are negligent!?

Picture 5Here we have a chart of care payment for CAS employees that is clear evidence foster parents pull in more money for sick children, which is what we could easily term an economic incentive to neglect children for profit. (This is not an Ontario document to the best of my knowledge, but it appears the rates are similar all over the continent and I cannot find one for our region on the Internet). On what planet did that become acceptable, much less civilized behavior?!

Given this diagnostic history, the fact that I have repeatedly informed these people my family suffers from Multiple Chemical Sensitivity— one might think these people would take the rash a little more seriously!? I understand they’re offended because I retaliated by attempting to access the complaints process we are legally entitled to but look at the mission statements on the CUPE web site.

The president of the local chapter saw to it personally that my son was arrested so she could protect her right to this so-called “democracy” that pits left against right as though only Canadians who are insiders have a right to live and breath in this country— to say nothing of the conflict of interest presented by a monstrosity whose one hand is in our children’s pants while its other hand is selling them pharmaceuticals for deliberately orchestrated behavior and health problems:

  • The Canadian Union of Public Employees (CUPE) is Canada’s largest union.

  • With around 627,000 members across Canada, CUPE represents workers in health care, education, municipalities, libraries, universities, social services, public utilities, transportation, emergency services and airlines.

  • A strong and democratic union, CUPE is committed to improving the quality of life for workers in Canada. Women and men working together to form local unions built CUPE. They did so to have a stronger voice – a collective voice – in their workplace and in society as a whole.

  • Together they have won the right to negotiate their wages and working conditions; to stop arbitrary action by employers; and to speak out without fear of reprisal.

  • CUPE members are service-providers, white-collar workers, technicians, labourers, skilled trades people and professionals. More than half of CUPE members are women. About one-third are part-time workers.

  • CUPE is a modern, dynamic and sophisticated union with more than 70 offices across the country.

  • Workers, united through CUPE, have the clout and expertise to deal with the growing complexities of our global economy.

The motives were quite simple! They abused Daemon because we had the nerve to behave as though our privacy was being grossly invaded when the long, significant history of previous CAS files closed due to malicious allegations from far-left leaning community members came to light. All the women on my file lean heavily to the left; they are pushing to give full custody to my left-leaning ex-husband regardless of the fact that they themselves said repeatedly in court I am not abusive and there are no child protection concerns. One of the women who’s in a relationship with his current caregiver is an employee of the Hamilton Police Service, who refuse to return our son or investigate these horrors even though they grossly breeched his consent rights when they took him from us, enforcing the whims of CUPE members without any regard whatsoever for the law.  My handsome young son might strike them as ripe for the sex-trade, given their political and economic ideals— and it is evident to me that we are, in fact, nothing but lambs to the slaughter to this government as a result of our beliefs.  It makes no difference to them if they drive us “lambs” to suicide because all we are is fresh meat to these people.

For the record, here is what the Education Act of Ontario says about compulsory school attendance— it’s anybody’s guess what “satisfactory” education means but my guess is anything above an “F” average falls well within the norm:

Picture 102

Given the fact that the Harper administration calls all the shots here, and he claims to be “Conservative”, I feel a need to question what exactly his definition of the term, “Progressive” might be! A “conservative” prime minister who accepts bribes from Crown-sponsored far-left economic interests to suppress the health and safety of his own people is a TRAITOR, not a leader!

Just so you all know, I wrote Queen Elizabeth years ago about my family’s circumstances and she could not be bothered to acknowledge my letter. Prince Charles did not hesitate to respond indirectly through some press release that suggested I was little more than a nuisance for him to toy with in his spare time. I’m certain that Her Majesty forfeited her role as leader of this country when she let loose this hell spawn of hers to intercept correspondence addressed to her and not her neer-do-well son, Charles. Seems to me the reason he shall never ascend to the throne is that he has already usurped his mother’s role as monarch— in his roundabout, insidious manner, and made some very poor choices because he figured the anonymity afforded him by his little Internet playground would be everlasting. I propose she buy some sprayfroam insulation to block up the mouse holes in Buckingham Palace if she wishes to continue her dubious reign over the moral minority— her own personal flock of shorn sheep for the slaughter.

After all, what’s good for the goose, is good for the gander!

The Mothering Instinct

CaptureSome of you inquired today how it is that a simple, clean-living creator of children’s material could get so deep into (sexual) politics and current events. That’s rather a naive line of inquiry when you think of how the world works. All the more incredulous is the fact that those making such inquiries are themselves so heavily steeped in the most predatory annals of academia.

This is the vocation I chose to present in my bio on WordPress when in fact I have a wide spectrum of interests which range from investigative reporting to homemaking. Our domestic life is most cultivated when I’m not wrung out from the 4-hour sleep periods allotted to those at the top of the food chain. Oh, what luxury!

Granted, you make sacrifices when you are forced to drag everyone else kicking and screaming into polite society. Hygiene is prioritized over esthetic the same way mental health is prioritized over decorum. This is not to say esthetic and decorum are absent; it is to say we must economize our way towards the ideal so as not to sacrifice what really matters. How far we get on a given day is largely at the whim of the masses.  Whomever designed this system had differing priorities, needless to say

Given the propensity for modern “feminists” to obsess about themes in (mass-produced) children’s material, I think the glaring question du jour ought to be more along the lines of, “How could you be in this business and ignore the big hairy monster that children’s material encapsulates?”

Women are, by and large, nosy creatures. It’s in our nature to nurture and we cannot do so without first observing the nuances of others’ lives in our milieu. In fact, I’d say we are hormonally predisposed in favor of minding others’ business. In a society where our hormone-flushed maternal systems are severed from the infant psyche at such a tender age, all that energy has to be channeled somewhere, and the way things are deigned in current life here in the West, that energy more often than not is channeled into acts that are decidedly competitive as opposed to reflexively protective. We lose sight of the greater picture in our struggles to embrace the immediate goals we are told we must strive for; many of which have no bearing on our greater success.

An almost artificial web of hyper-competitiveness has been seeded into youth culture which serves to confound the parental instinct; it feeds on insecurity instead of showing us the reassurance that is so vital to our means to survival. It turns children from their doorsteps for want of acceptance and guidance while parents are certain it is that which they provide when what is provided is the very antithesis of devotion. Once we care more for the opinions of others in our vicinity than we do for our own inner life of self-acceptance we begin to contribute to a climate of cancerous self-loathing; our community’s manifestation of our secret inner yearning for whatever intrinsic unity a sense of family might provide– if only our loyalties were not thus undermined. If only we were not so ego impoverished that we could never experience true joy and satisfaction through the accomplishments of others.

People ask me what this blog is about and what can I tell them? The culture shock I experienced when I entered the business world after staying home with my children for many years was way colder than 100 ALS ice bucket challenges. And that’s pretty damned cold, folks.

Cold. I remember a time when people were ashamed to be called that. It meant heartless; mean and selfish.

We know all about the horrible things out there and we do not shelter one another from the realities of life in this family. In being there for one another, those of us who use attachment parenting techniques practice the art of unconditional love. That doesn’t mean we never argue and we never get annoyed with one another. It means that through life’s ups and downs, we enjoy an undercurrent of appreciation for one another that never wanes. I don’t think you can have something so profound with acquaintances you are grouped together with simply because you happen to be of the same age.

We’re far from perfect and that’s something we derive strength from. We don’t hold in burps unless we’re in public or there are guests and we don’t hate one another for longer than 5 minutes after we criticize one another because we know we’re never going to be perfect. Nobody ever asked that of us because there’s no such thing as perfect and letting that be OK is what drove me to try homeschooling. Those of us who struggle less with a need to outperform others have more stamina when it comes to being creative and completing tasks. Sure, we in this immediate family are bright and we compete with ease in a variety of areas but there’s always someone better than you out there and if competition was the only motivation we would seek out those who make us feel insecure and vie with them. But there are better things we could be doing with that energy, because we’re just not in that head space.

I care more about what exercise does for our bodies than I do about how many goals were scored and I care more about how much fun we had during a game than about points won, because our health was never something we had the luxury to take for granted. Certain people have suggested that makes me inadequate as a competitor but those are the same people who keep fudging the numbers on the score charts. We’re riding at six figures against zero after a decade of debates that seem to go nowhere. We do that by focusing on the nose hairs of the guy who’s running over our toddler with a pickup truck. He forgot the trim them and man that’s gross. Of course, whether our own flesh and blood survives that treatment is secondary to the disgust he causes us. How’s that for an analogy?

[Christina Halasz-Lane is a home school parent with a 20 year-old daughter and an adolescent son of 15. They’re not swimsuit models or walking encyclopedias but they’re nice, bright kids and they are helpful, enthusiastic and talented. Christina is busy doing ridiculous amounts of research and development for the Glass Mountain Corporation which she founded over a decade ago. This umbrella corporation will house a variety of commercial venues when she finally succeeds in shaking off the zombies. Those would be the people that head the Microsoft Corporation’s insidious shadow government, as they allow more or less the entire corporate world to piggy-back on her research without acknowledgment or pay. They appear to be largely Swiss in origin or thereabouts. She’s repeatedly struggled for her life against the giants of the propaganda mill only to discover no one’s in charge, the law exists only as window dressing and the people we thought were in charge have no idea what they’re doing because they never matured past grade school. Christina has millions of admiring followers who are afraid to say they know her because someone  said Vladamir Putin likes little boys. She has a Spanish butcher who sells her rotten chicken from Mennonite farms on a bimonthly basis because they cannot afford air conditioning. No she does not eat it if it fails the sniff test. She knows she will find her niche even if it means she has to wait for the local police chief to die of a cardiac arrest. Presently held captive in what many might call a borderline slum by the Government of Ontario, Canada, you can reach Christina here: [] She has not yet been cooked and eaten by the locals. We’re not sure if you can call that an accomplishment but at least she’s not as frightening as her distant cousins in London’s Buckingham Palace.]

It’s Been a While SInce I Wrote Here.

In retrospect, this blog is not as formal as I’d like it to be, however experience dictates that when you’re fighting for your life and those of beloved dependents there’s only so much energy left to devote to formalities. I’m glad I was able to spit out a few coherent sentences given the nature of the material. The complicity of family in this scenario is heartrending but there you have it; society would not be able to hurt young people without the permission of our loved ones…

I’m asked to write this by someone on the Dilbert Blog while I ought to sleep— I cooperate because I’m afraid for our lives:

I suspect the true reason D is forced to attend public school is they plan to frame us then murder him on his way to school. The (English affiliated) social worker who won’t get off his back was flirting with the principal on Tuesday, accuses us of lies when we say he’s having trouble getting enough rest & fresh air because there are no windows in the building where he’s forced under threat of apprehension to spend  7 hours a day 5 days a week when he ought to be home recuperating from the illness they orchestrated during his CAS detainment through deliberate chemical exposure— substances we specifically instructed them to keep from him. This social worker, who spent months on paid sick leave after she fell down the stairs (in a drunken stupor, it is rumored)  shows up at his school to threaten him when we keep him home for a sick day now and then. The principal promised to call here first and keep his mother informed but he’s sided with the social worker because she’s flirty whereas I try to force him to be accountable so he lets her do as she pleases and never calls here even after I told him she allowed others to hurt my son. D’s throat swells out while he’s in the building and it gets sore— there is tissue growth that was not there when they admitted him ay 2013. He now has the exact same deformity of the uvula I got from the insulation in our old rental only more pronounced. The city refuses to give us access to a family doctor or lawyer but they all know what happened because we have no privacy and we’ve been speaking about this in our home as we address the problem. It’s noteworthy that I’ve been getting kidney pains lately— from certain grocery items which I presume thousands of people in the area also consume on a regular basis. I’m able through process of elimination to determine which purchases offend and the pain simply leaves within 24 hours after I stop. My educated guess is they are sprayed with excessive amounts of chemicals during the manufacturing process by saboteurs. Why are we spending more money on cancer and mental health hospitals in Hamilton, Ontario when we ought to build labs that test foods that cause problems in the first place? I got all this down then someone reminded me my daughter walks my son to the bus in the morning— she’s also vulnerable to attacks when I’m there. None of us carry guns— she’s as stressed out as anybody else in the family. Bill keeps calling the social worker dense in his press releases which suggests she’s supposed to be on his team but she’s gone rogue. He’s also shown the prostitutes giving instruction to hurt my son are on his team; calculated to manipulate the lower classes. Either he’s flipped his lid or they’ve also gone rogue and are in charge of this whole campaign to murder us with permission from the local Mafia, which would explain why people are afraid to help us out. What it comes down to is these are sociopaths and my kids and I are stuck in a game we never wished for. We have better things to do than starve on a regular basis and poison our own grocery purchases. I thought the Mafia didn’t murder innocent mothers and children… I guess misery loves company.


Anyone who is still laughing either believes in using children as guinea pigs or else they are pedophiles, end of story. I wouldn’t want a reputation like that no matter how sexy I thought I was…